


Where the Fallout Lies

by Flirteenth Doctor (HyperPluviophile)



Series: The Sofa Saga [1]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Episode: s11e01 The Woman Who Fell to Earth, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-10-05 20:25:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17331767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HyperPluviophile/pseuds/Flirteenth%20Doctor
Summary: It's nothing serious, just a tiny bit of post regeneration sickness... Although-“ She pauses as another wave of dizziness crashes over her “-Everything else I’ve done in the last few hours- like climbing a crane andthenjumping from it- has probably made it worse”The events of The Woman Who Fell To Earth finally catch up with the Doctor.





	Where the Fallout Lies

**Author's Note:**

> So, here’s some unnecessary backstory-  
> A few weeks ago I wrote a bunch of parts for a 5+1 fic that was going to be something along the lines of “Five times the Doctor fell asleep on someone else’s sofa and one time she fell asleep on her own sofa” But I ended up scrapping the whole thing and this is the only chapter that is anywhere near acceptable to publish. The other parts really weren't very good, and to be honest I’m not happy with this either, but since it’s finished I thought I might as well post it. Idk, I just feel as though I should clarify that this really isn’t high art or anything; there are some really skilled writers in the Doctor Who fandom at the moment and I'm not trying to pretend that I'm one of them :) This is just a short whump thing that I thought some people might enjoy.

Letting her head drop into her hands the Doctor winces as she breathes through yet another wave of dizziness. A dull ache has been spreading slowly throughout her body over the course of the night, only becoming worse with each new physical exertion. She knows she shouldn’t be surprised; Time Lords can spend hours, even days, healing after regeneration. One memorable Christmas she herself had slept for almost 15 hours solid after changing. This time she’s barely had an hour. Nowhere near enough.

And now, sat perched on a concrete block at the foot of the crane, she can feel the full impact of her recent regeneration hitting her with a brute force. Her limbs are aching and her head is pounding and her insides feel like they’re on fire. Everything is still healing and that means that everything _hurts_.

“Are you alright?”

The Doctor’s so distracted by the pain that the voice startles her a little. She looks up to see Yaz standing over her. There’s a strange look on the young woman’s face; at a glance her expression is one of deceptive calmness, but her eyes are full of shock and grief. It’s a look the Doctor’s seen before. It’s the look of someone who’s been through something traumatic but is desperately holding their nerve because they don’t know what else to do. And upon realising this the Doctor feels a sharp pang of guilt for letting Yaz and the others become caught up in all of this, and for not doing a better job of protecting them. It’s enough to convince her that regardless of how much pain she might be in Yaz needs her help more than she needs Yaz’s right now.

“Who me? I'm fine. Totally fine. Never been better” As if to prove it the Doctor pushes herself up onto her feet, instantly regretting it as the dizziness becomes worse and her limbs start to tremble with the effort. But she grits her teeth and forces herself to continue “Look, I’m so sorry about everything that’s happened. You’ve all been absolutely brilliant and it’s my fault for not being quick enough, for not looking after you all… I said you were under my protection, but I didn’t...” She trails off, unsure of how to continue. How do you begin to apologise for something so huge as someone’s death? Despite the number of times she’s had to do it over the course of 2000 or so years she still doesn’t know.

Yaz shakes her head slowly  “You did everything you could. If it weren't for you we'd all be dead and Craig would be with Tim Shaw on some planet somewhere. You haven't got anything to apologise for”

Her sincerity is touching, and the Doctor opens her mouth to begin replying when all of a sudden her head starts swimming again and she finds herself hunched over, hands resting on her knees in an effort to keep herself upright.

She  feels Yaz place a tentative but comforting hand on her shoulder “Are you sure you're alright? Only...you really don’t look fine” Her voice is gentle but there’s a very obvious underlying waver of anxiety to it.

The Doctor takes a deep breath. She’s shaking badly now and she’s not sure for how much longer her limbs will be able to support her. The possibility of her passing out, she realises, is becoming increasingly likely. More so the longer she continues redirecting energy into pretending that she’s ok when she quite clearly isn’t.  

“Um… No. You’re right. I lied. I'm not really fine” She concedes “Well I am, I mean, I will be. But I'm not fine specifically right now” She’s trying to strike the right balance between being honest and being reassuring, and (judging by Yaz’s alarmed expression) she’s failing rather miserably “But I will be”

“Why, what's wrong?”

”It's nothing serious, just a tiny bit of post regeneration sickness... Although-“ She pauses as another wave of dizziness crashes over her “-Everything else I’ve done in the last few hours- like climbing a crane and _then_ jumping from it- has probably made it worse”

“Is there anything I can do to help you? Do- do you need me to fetch a paramedic?” Yaz gestures towards the ambulance crew surrounding Grace’s body and the Doctor feels a sense of panic grip her.

Regeneration and hospitals. Something about that combination is setting off numerous alarm bells for her.

She pushes herself upright and away from Yaz, ignoring her body's screams of protest  “No, that's not what I need. I need…” She staggers forward. The effort of standing up has done something to her brain.The pain is still growing worse and it’s as though it’s now created a fog around her mind. She knows she needs something but through the nausea and the exhaustion she just can’t remember what. “I need…”

What does she need? She wracks her brain. Something to give her energy maybe? Food perhaps. Apples? Fish fingers and custard? Pears? Her stomach twists at the thought. No, she definitely doesn't need pears. No one ever needs pears. Maybe she needs those cream coloured biscuits with the fancy-

“Doctor?”

“Hm?” Yaz’s voice cuts through her thoughts, startling her for a second time. She'd forgotten Yaz was here. How had she managed to forget Yaz? She’d only just been talking to- And then a stab of pain makes her double over and instantly the answer comes back to her. She’d been thinking about the answer earlier but then she’d forgotten it.

She needs to sleep. She needs a total system shut down while everything is still rebooting. It’s blindingly obvious now she thinks about it.  

Relieved to have some of her wits back the Doctor turns to Yaz again “Sorry, had a bit of a wobble there. I don’t need a paramedic,  I need to-“

And then mid sentence the inevitable crash her body has been building up to for so long finally hits her; the pain reaches a breaking point and her knees buckle out from under her, and one moment she’s awake and aware, feeling nauseous and exhausted but still fighting to stay conscious, and the next she’s falling as her vision starts to turn black. The last thing she’s aware of is Yaz dimly shouting her name before she slips down into nothing.

**Somewhere far away the Doctor walks through a field of flowers. It’s nearly dawn, judging by the orange glow on the horizon, and far away in the distance she thinks she can hear the faint sound of running water. The place isn’t one she recognises and she can’t quite seem to remember how she got there but that isn’t really bothering her. Neither is the feeling that she’s being watched. Both are strangely comforting; it’s nice to know that despite how old she is the universe can still surprise her with new experiences, and that there’s something out there presiding over her. She has a vague idea that she might like to picnic here, but then she remembers she doesn’t have the TARDIS. The TARDIS.  And then the flowers melt away into buttons and she wonders how she didn’t realise before that the field was… is the TARDIS. It’s strange, the two aren’t very similar. But now the field is indeed the TARDIS and she has a feeling that it always has been. Running a hand over the console she smiles as the machine hums happily beneath her finger tips. She can feel its comforting presence in her mind mingling with the still constant feeling that there are people watching nearby. Several invisible guardians and a TARDIS. That sounds like a poem. She ought to write that, she thinks, it sounds like it wouldn’t be half bad….**

When The Doctor wakes up it takes her a while to realise she’s alone. To notice that there’s no one beside her and no TARDIS.

It’s late afternoon and she’s back on Graham’s sofa. Someone has covered her with a blanket and there's a cold cup of tea on the coffee table in front of her, both signs that she had company not too long ago. When she lifts her head a little she can see draped over the back of a chair in the dining room is a jacket that she recognises to be Yaz’s.

No TARDIS and no guardians and no flowers. But still,she’s woken up in far worse places. The sofa’s just as comfortable as it was a few hours (Although, she supposes, it could be days) ago and the house has a homely welcoming feel that she hadn’t had the time to appreciate the first time she was in it. Lying back down she closes her eyes and takes stock; the pain is better now. Everything still hurts but in less of a “Every single cell in my body was lit on fire less than a day ago” and more of a normal exhausted aching sort of way. Although that might have something to do with the fact that she’s no longer standing in the middle of a cold wet building site.

Experimentally she flexes one arm, pleased when the movement isn’t accompanied by any sudden shock of discomfort. Based on that it appears a few more hours of sleep should do it. Ordinarily the idea of spending so much time doing nothing might be irritating for her, but already the call to fall back into the abyss is pressing strongly at the edges of her mind. It is a _very_ comfy sofa, and something about it feels so safe and welcoming. It’s warm and cosy and she ought to get herself one of these, she thinks, maybe a purple one for the TARDIS, when she finds it.

 

And that’s her last thought before exhaustion once again takes hold of her and pulls her back into blissful unawareness.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah I know that was a really lazy ending but what can I say, I put most of my attention into the whump (as you can probably tell) and after that part was over I didn't really know what else to write. Anyway I hope you enjoyed reading this :) If you notice any spelling errors or anything please point them out to me. Heck, if you have any writing tips/general feedback for me then that'd be even more appreciated because I'm really trying to improve my writing skills at the moment xx


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